Of Scotch And Wine
by theoofoof
Summary: A collection of unrelated, standalone stories about Benson/Barba.
1. Genes: Missing Scene

**A/N:** Okay so this is my first ever attempt at writing for SVU/Barson. I'm relatively new to the fandom and haven't seen all the episodes yet so the bits in this chapter about Benson's father are based on what I've read. This is also unbetad I apologise for any mistakes..

This chapter is a missing scene from 18x13: Genes. When I watched it I was struck by Barba's comment at the end about Benson's concerns about Noah. She'd clearly confided in him. This is my attempt to address that. Set between when Carisi and Rollins are sent to find Will Steind after he doesn't turn up to testify and when the three of them confront Stein on the roof.

Please do leave a review and let me know how I did with my first Barson fic.

* * *

"How are you holding up?" Barba asked Olivia as the third sigh left her lips in as many minutes. Over the last few days, he'd noticed this case was taking its toll on her. She was quieter, more withdrawn than usual. He didn't think she was eating and, if the bags under her eyes were anything to go by, she hadn't been sleeping either. It was why he'd accompanied her back to the precinct after they'd dispatched Carisi and Rollins to find their missing witness. He was worried about her and wanted to take care of her. Not that he'd sold it to her like that of course; he valued his life too much.

Olivia lowered the file she was holding and looked up at him curiously. "With what?"

"All this talk of the 'rape gene'. It can't be easy for you."

She dropped the file onto her desk and let out another sigh. That her father was a rapist wasn't common knowledge among the law enforcement or judicial communities of New York City. She only told people she trusted, and even then, it was as and when they needed to know. It wasn't something that she enjoyed talking about and she didn't want it to define the way people viewed her.

Barba had first asked about her family after the disaster with Alex Muñoz. He'd shared some of his childhood with her and had enquired about hers. She'd brushed him off, telling him that it was a long story; something that she didn't want to get into at the time. To his credit he hadn't pushed her; he'd accepted her answer and changed the subject. It was only after the death of his grandmother that she finally told him the truth.

* * *

 _"_ _I lied to you," Olivia admitted as she returned from checking on Noah. She'd invited Barba round after hearing the news about his grandmother. Noah had provided the man with a blessed distraction from his grief while he'd been awake – wanting Uncle Barba's undivided attention. Once he was in bed though, the two of them had started talking, first about his Grandmother but then about other aspects of his childhood. When Barba had told her about his difficult relationship with his father, she'd felt guilty. He trusted her enough to confide in her, perhaps it was time she did the same._

 _Barba's brow furrowed at her words. "About what?"_

 _"_ _Last year, when you asked me about my father." She picked her wine glass up off the table and ran her finger around the rim, her gaze fixed on the rich, dark liquid within. "I told you that it was a long story. It isn't. Not really. The truth is…" Lifting the glass to her lips, Olivia downed the remnants of her Cabernet. She lifted her eyes to meet Barba's. "My mother got pregnant with me... after she was raped."_

 _He dropped his head into his hands and swore quietly. "Shit Liv." Suddenly he had a better understanding of Olivia Benson and what made her tick. Her background explained what drove her and why she always fought so hard for the victim._

 _She replaced the empty glass on the coffee table. "The man who raped her… my father… he attacked two other women in the space of two years."_

 _Turning his head toward her once again, Barba spoke softly. "Was he ever caught? Prosecuted?"_

 _Olivia shook her head. "No. He's dead. Killed himself." Her voice was flat as she spoke and Barba's heart broke for her. "I never met him. Never got a chance to ask him why he did what he did. But he ruined my mother's life. She tried to forget by drinking herself into oblivion which didn't always work out well for me, y'know?"_

 _She didn't elaborate, but she didn't need to. Barba's own history and the amount of cases he'd seen during his time as an ADA meant that he could well imagine the kind of things she had experienced._

 _Barba reached over and grasped her hand. "Thank you, Liv._

 _This time it was her brow that furrowed. "For what?"_

 _"_ _For trusting me with this. With your past."_

* * *

"Liv?"

The touch of Barba's hand on her shoulder brought her back to the present.

She shrugged him off. "I'm fine."

Barba sighed as he rested against the edge of the desk, next to her chair. "Come on Liv."

"What do you want me to say Barba?" She stood and began to pace. "That I've hardly slept since this case started; that I'm scared to death that Noah is going to turn out like Johnny D. Or maybe you want to hear that I'm wondering if my actions… my aggression towards Lewis… that that was because of my father."

"William Lewis was an evil man. He kidnapped you, assaulted you, beat you." Barba moved in front of Olivia, stilling her pacing. "Anyone," Barba placed his hands on her shoulders, " _anyone_ , would have done what you did given the opportunity. Hell, it took everything _I_ had not to take a swing at him."

Olivia scoffed. Rafael Barba was hardly the fighting type.

One hand flew to his chest. "You wound me, Liv."

She smirked. "Sorry."

"S'okay," he whispered, returning his hand to her shoulder. "It's worth it to see you smile. Look, there is absolutely no evidence that a 'rape gene' exists. You know that." He looked deeply into her eyes. "You _know_."

Slowly, Olivia nodded. "I do. I know I do. But then a case like this will come up and…" she dismissed her thoughts with a wave of her hand.

"We've had cases like this before, and I've _never_ seen you like this. Is there something I don't know?"

Olivia stepped back from Barba and turned away. She stared out of the window, her gaze fixed on the roof of the building opposite. Barba waited patiently, resting once more against the edge of her desk. After a few minutes, Olivia ran her hand through her hair and told her friend what had happened. "Noah and I were at the park. He was playing in the sand box and a little girl had the digger he wanted. He… he tried to take it from her and when she wouldn't give it to him, he pushed her."

Barba nodded, knowingly. "And you think that's a sign he's going to grow up to be violent, like his father."

She shrugged. "Maybe."

"Kids snatch, Liv. They want what other kids have and don't understand that they can't have it."

"I get that. I do. But… he pushed her. I didn't expect that from him."

"Noah's what?" Barba asked. "Three?" Olivia nodded. "There you go then," he continued. "He's still learning to be social, how to interact with others, how to manage his emotions. What happened at the park is normal. Ask any other parent."

"But what if-?"

"I'm assuming you intervened. That you didn't let it go unpunished?"

He'd meant the question to be rhetorical – already knowing the answer – but she answered anyway. "Of course. I took the toy off him and gave it back to the girl and told him that he couldn't snatch. I sent him to time out."

"It sounds to me like you're doing all the right things. You're teaching Noah the social skills he needs and setting clear boundaries for him. He'll be fine."

Olivia raised an eyebrow. "Since when did you become an expert on parenting?" The first time she asked Barba to hold her son he'd done so awkwardly and with a little fear in his eyes. Over time, he had become more at ease with Noah and she knew that they both enjoyed the time they spent together. But as far as she knew, Noah was the only child he had any contact with.

Maybe when they'd first begun working together Barba would have comeback with a smug, slightly arrogant comment, but not now. They had been dancing around their shifting relationship for long enough. He'd been looking for an opportunity to discuss it with her, but one had never presented itself. Until perhaps, now.

"Well, this amazing woman that I know adopted a little boy, so I thought I should read up." Shuffling from He reached out and loosely encircled her wrists with his hands. "Especially when I began to realise I wanted to spend more time with him…" He drew her gently towards him, rubbing the backs of her hands with his thumbs, "and his mom."

Her breath hitched and her eyes widened. She opened her mouth to speak but Barba continued before she got the chance. "There's no pressure here Liv. I just wanted to lay it all out there, that's all. How I feel."

She hadn't expected his honesty. Not now. She'd thought she'd have longer to get her head around her feelings. She'd ended her relationship with Tucker to focus on Noah and now, less than a month later, she was on the precipice of another.

This felt different though. They were friends. Good friends and had been for a long time. She wouldn't deny finding him attractive – she always had. She was only human after all. She'd thought about them too over the years. What it would be like if they were more than friends. How they would be away from the office. And then, before she realised it, something had shifted. Their relationship had become something else. Something more. A natural seamless progression that neither of them had noticed until it had happened. But they weren't _there_ yet. They hadn't addressed the changes between them and there were lines they had yet to cross.

At her thoughts, her lips curved up into a small smile. Barba had taken the first step, she now needed to take the next. She rearranged their hands, interlacing their fingers and leaned towards him. She watched his nervousness give way to a shy smile as he realised that she wasn't upset or offended at his feelings. They hovered there, their lips centimetres apart, their breaths mingling. Slowly, she closed the distance between them and, closing her eyes, brushed her lips against his. It was brief, barely a kiss at all, but it was filled with affection and the promise of something more.

Resting his forehead against hers, Barba was the first to break the silence, his voice softer than she'd ever heard it. "Liv, I-"

No sooner had he started speaking than her cell phone sprang to life on her desk.

"Hold that thought," she smiled, stepping around him and picking up her phone. "Rollins, what have you got?... Where?" She scribbled something onto a notepad on her desk. "Okay, I'm on my way." She turned back to Barba as she hung up. "They've found Will Stein." She ripped the note she'd written off the pad and rounded the desk. "We're going to go and pick him up."

" _Please_ get him onside to testify tomorrow."

"I'll do my best," she vowed, grabbing her coat from the hook near the door.

"I know you will." Barba took the coat out of her hands and helped her on with it.

Olivia couldn't help but smile at the gesture. "Listen, why don't you come over tonight. You can put some of your new found expertise to good use with Noah and then… once he's in bed… maybe we can talk."

He nodded. "I'll bring dinner. The kid still eating macaroni and cheese?" He seemed to remember that was his favourite but he knew some kids could be fussy and change what they ate whenever they felt like it.

"Yeah. About six thirty?"

"I'll be there. Now, go and get me my witness Lieutenant."

Olivia rolled her eyes at his attitude and smiled. He really did make her feel more at ease than anyone she'd ever known. She doubted that the demons she struggled with would ever disappear completely but maybe, with him at her side, they'd be a little less fierce.


	2. Songfic: For Good

_**A/N:** __"What if the threats against Barba in season 17 got so bad that he was forced to go into witness protection?"_

 _This idea came to me after listening to the song 'For Good' from the musical 'Wicked' and I would recommend giving the song a listen at some point. It does get a little angsty at the end. It's also completely unbetad so I apologise for any mistakes. It's only my second SVU/Barson fic, so any feedback/reviews/comments are much appreciated._

* * *

 _I've heard it said  
That people come into our lives for a reason  
Bringing something we must learn  
And we are led to those who help us most to grow  
If we let them and we help them in return  
Well, I don't know if I believe that's true  
But I know I'm who I am today  
Because I knew you..._

Rafael Barba looked in the mirror and struggled to reconcile the face of the man looking back at him - a man with a scruffy growth of five days' worth of beard stubble - with the well-groomed, well-dressed man he had been for the past 20 years.

When he'd first requested the lateral transfer to the Manhattan DA's office, he'd had no intentions of staying in that position for long. He wanted to move up the ladder and felt that a position in Manhattan offered him more opportunities and more exposure. He'd been aggressive and ruthless, only taking cases that he knew he could win. He wasn't likely to be promoted or become the judge his Abuela had been convinced he would be one day if he lost more cases than he won.

It was all worked out; he'd be elected to the office of district attorney within three years of his move. He'd had a plan.

 _Like a comet pulled from orbit_  
 _As it passes a sun_  
 _Like a stream that meets a boulder_  
 _Halfway through the wood_  
 _Who can say if I've been changed for the better?  
Because I knew you  
I have been changed for good_

The one thing he hadn't planned on, however, was the whirlwind that was Olivia Benson. From the moment he met her, he'd been blown away by her passion and his professional admiration for her only grew as he got to know her, as he saw how she was with victims and their families. Oh, there were times she drove him crazy, as he was sure he did to her. They always managed to find their way past those, however, and built a successful professional partnership.

Working in such close proximity, dealing with the harrowing cases that they did, he supposed it was only inevitable that they'd develop a friendship too. There weren't many people who could understand the stresses of their jobs so they gravitated towards each other, taking solace in the small victories and sharing late night drinks together. Eventually, they'd began to turn to each other for comfort when facing personal struggles. She'd offered reassurance after he'd turned his childhood friend over to the authorities for the possession of child pornography. When his Abuelita had died, he'd sent her a text to let her know he'd be taking some time off and she'd been at his door within an hour, a bottle of his favourite scotch in hand and a shoulder to cry on.

When she'd found out the truth about Noah's biological father, it had been his turn to provide reassurance. In the end, she'd ignored his pleas and promises, not wanting to start her life with Noah on a lie. As frustrating as it was, he'd understood. It wasn't that she didn't believe him, it was that she didn't want to lie to her son.

He thinks it was around the time of his Abuelita's passing that he began to realise his feelings for his friend had developed into something more. He hadn't wanted to deal with them then; he was still grieving and she had been, quite rightly, focused on Noah and the adoption. When he had come to terms with how he felt about her, just as he'd been working up the courage to act on them, he'd found out she was in a relationship with Tucker. That had been like a punch to the gut and their relationship, both the professional and personal facets, had taken a hit.

They'd just about returned to the level of familiarity and closeness they'd had before the church scandal when all hell had broken loose. And now it looked like their relationship was definitely over.

 _It well may be_  
 _That we will never meet again_  
 _In this lifetime_  
 _So let me say before we part  
So much of me Is made of what I learned from you  
You'll be with me like a handprint on my heart_

The threats against him had intensified over the past few months and, despite the best efforts of SVU and his security detail, there had been several attempts on his life. The latest had been a bomb under his car. A bomb that had taken out the male officer that had been assigned to protect him. He'd been quickly squirrelled away and hidden in a safe house. Time had dragged as he'd stat there in that sparsely decorated room with only two security agents for company, waiting for news. When the head of his security detail arrived, Barba's relief was short lived. They had no leads. It was too risky to allow him to return to his life. Several people believed that he had perished in the explosion and their plan was to perpetuate the lie; to make everyone believe that he was dead. To put him into the witness protection program.

His first instinct had been to protest. He had a life; family, friends, a good job, a purpose. But it all fell on deaf ears. The agent in charge had merely scoffed and asked him what use all those things were to a dead man. He'd also pointed out that by not remaining 'dead', he was putting those he claimed to care about in danger. What if the perpetrators went after them. He thought about his mother and Olivia. The thought that something should happen to either of them or to Noah, was the final straw. He agreed to witness protection. On one condition…

 _And now whatever way our stories end  
I know you have re-written mine  
By being my friend..._

The knock came shortly after 2 am. The agents had thought it best that this meeting took place well under the cover of darkness. Rafael sat ram-rod straight on the sofa as the two agents assigned to him moved to the front door, guns drawn. The meeting may have been planned, but you could never be too cautious in these situations. After some hushed conversation at the door, Olivia appeared; a little light on a dark day. He stood as she rushed him, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him into a hug. She buried her head in the crook of his neck as she tried unsuccessfully to stifle her tears.

Despite never having been this close to her before, instinct took over and Rafael returned her hug, rubbing his hands up and down her back soothingly.

"I thought…" she began but found herself unable to say the words.

"I know. But I'm not. I'm here."

She pulled back slightly – just enough that she could see his face but remain in his embrace. "Not for long though."

Rafael glanced at the suitcase that stood by the door. "No, not for long." They'd be leaving in a few hours, while it was still dark. He'd be taken out of the city, maybe never to return, and thrust into a new life as Rafael Diaz. But there were things he had to say to Olivia before that happened, things that he needed her to know. He turned to his security detail. "Can we have the room please?"

The three agents shared a look and their boss shook his head. "This is the main point of entry to the house, we need to maintain a presence by the door." Rafael opened his mouth to protest, but the agent cut him off. "If you want privacy, you're more than welcome to use one of the rooms upstairs, as long as one of us remains outside."

Rafael led Olivia slowly towards the stairs, the female agent trailing behind. "You have two hours Mr Barba," the agent called after them.

They settled in a bedroom at the far end of the hall, sitting next to each other on the edge of the bed. "I don't know what to say," whispered Olivia, unable to accept the fact that he was leaving, that she'd never see him again.

"Then don't say anything. Just listen. There are some things I have to say." He reached over and plucked her hands from her lap, enveloping them in his own. "Olivia, you are a strong woman, a brilliant police officer, an amazing mother and a loyal friend and I am honoured to have known you, to have had you in my life. I know I'm not the easiest person to work with and, in the beginning, I was arrogant and, well, quite frankly a bit of an ass-hole."

Olivia smirked. "Just in the beginning?"

"Okay, so maybe I still am on occasion," he conceded. "You know, I had all these plans about what I was going to do in New York. How the transfer was going to enable me to move up the promotion ladder, but somewhere along the line that stopped being important. It stopped driving me. It had been replaced by something else. By someone else. My plans, my life had been rewritten. And I didn't even care."

 _Like a ship blown from its mooring_  
 _By a wind off the sea_  
 _Like a seed dropped by a skybird_  
 _In a distant wood_  
 _Who can say if I've been changed for the better?_  
 _But because I knew you_  
 _Because I knew you_  
 _I have been changed for good_

"I changed Liv. Because of you. You made me see that there was more to these cases than winning. That we had to advocate for the victim. That we had to take on people and organisations that thought they were above the law. You taught me that doing the right thing was more important than playing politics. You changed me, Liv."

Olivia was speechless, shocked, and yet deeply moved at the same time. She was suddenly aware of the tears prickling at the corner of her eyes and held them back, trying to stay composed.

 _And just to clear the air_  
 _I ask forgiveness_  
 _For the things I've done, you blame me for_  
 _But then, I guess we know_  
 _There's blame to share_  
 _And none of it seems to matter anymore_

"I know that I've done things that you haven't agreed with and I'm sorry. For all of it. The way I handled the case with Alex Munöz, pushing you at the police shooting grand jury." He swallowed before continuing, before broaching the subject that they had both skilfully avoided for the past 3 years. "For not being able to convict William Lewis the first time." His gaze dropped to their joined hands. "For not being able to stop him.

Olivia grasped his hands. "I never blamed you for that Rafael." He looked up as his first name fell from her lips. "Never. I've never told you this, but In the aftermath of what happened, you were the only one who didn't treat me as if I was broken. You challenged me and argued with me just as you always had and I will appreciate that more than you will ever know."

"Still, it should never have happened."

"You're right, it shouldn't have. But it isn't on you." She lifted a hand to wipe a stray tear from Rafael's cheek. "But while we're on the subject of things that we shouldn't have done, I should apologise too. I know I brought you tough cases and sometimes I made them worse. I should have listened to you when you advised me not to reveal that I knew Johnny D was Noah's biological father. It nearly monkey wrenched your case and I'm sorry. I'm sorry for-"

Rafael held up a hand to silence her. "I think it's safe to say, we've both upset and annoyed each other several times over the years we've worked together, but it doesn't matter now. It all pales into insignificance at the fact that I'm probably never going to see you again. I thought we'd have time… I never imagined…"

"Time for what?"

"For us… I thought maybe there was… something between us. Something more."

 _Like a comet pulled from orbit_  
 _As it passes a sun_  
 _Like a stream that meets a boulder_  
 _Halfway through the wood_  
 _Like a ship blown from its mooring_  
 _By a wind off the sea_  
 _Like a seed dropped by a skybird_  
 _In the wood_

He hadn't intended to tell her how he felt, but the words just tumbled out. He couldn't stop them. But at her silence, Rafael began to panic. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything. You're with Tucker, I understand that. And I'm leaving." He sighed. "I just…" Olivia ignored him and reached up to kiss his lips softly.

"There is something more," she whispered, pulling him close. "I didn't think you were interested. That was why I accepted Tucker's invitation for drinks. But what I feel for him… it's nothing compared to what I feel for you. And now you're leaving and we'll never get to find out if..." She trailed off as her emotions spilt over and her tears flowed freely. "What am I going to do without you?" she choked out between sobs.

Rafael's heart broke at the sight of her tears. "Oh, Liv." He wished he could find the right words to give her comfort; wished that he could promise her that things would be okay. He wished she knew that she is not alone in being afraid, but he doesn't know how to say it out loud.

Instead, he leaned down and captured her sweet lips with his own. They were warm and soft, trembling slightly at the contact. She ran her hand up along the length of his arm until she found the back of his neck. She threaded her fingers through the short hair they encountered there, pulling him even closer. When she felt his tongue's gentle prodding, she opened her mouth willingly, letting him in. She wanted to taste him, to drink him.

His hands trailed a path up and down her spine, and she shivered underneath his gentle touch. They moved to her sides, brushing against her breasts through the thin layer of her cotton shirt. She gasped into his mouth, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss even further.

Her hands reached for the buttons on his shirt and he pulled from the kiss. "Liv, we can't," he whispered, glancing at the bedroom door. "There's a US Marshall out there and…" There were other reasons for not going down this road, but he didn't want to sully the memory of the moment by speaking the name of the other man in her life. She understood. She knew. But she continued to her trail down the front of his shirt, unfastening the buttons as she went.

"I don't care," she insisted. "I may never see you again." She cupped his face in her hands. "Please, Rafael. Make love to me."

He'd never been able to deny her anything in all the time they'd worked together. He certainly wasn't going to start now, not when she was offering everything he'd wanted for at least the last two years. His hands found the hem of her t-shirt and she shivered as he lifted it. They didn't have much time. It wouldn't be the slow, romantic seduction either of them had dreamt of, but it was all they had and they would grasp it with both hands.

When they finally came together as one, a sense of peace and completion overcame. They never wanted to let go. And with their release, came the knowledge that they were, in fact, one. No matter how far apart they would be.

 _Who can say if I've been_  
 _Changed for the better?_  
 _I do believe I have been_  
 _Changed for the better_

They stood in front of the door, locked in an embrace, both reluctant to let go. At a discreet cough from his security detail, he pulled back and held her face in his. "Liv, I have to go." His eyes were wet and shining, gleaming shades of hazel, as he pressed a gentle kiss to her temple. He caressed her cheeks with his thumbs, then leaned in to place a gentle yet needy kiss on her lips. He inhaled her deeply, and her composure broke for a moment as her face clenched against his in agony. "I love you," he whispered, before beginning to gather his things. He checked his pockets for the wallet they'd given him – packed full of cards and identification for his new identity. He ran a hand absent-mindedly through his hair, before picking up his jacket and small suitcase. With one look back at her, he walked to the door and opened it a few inches.

"Rafael!"

Her sudden breach of the pervading silence caused him to jump. He turned around swiftly, eyebrow raised. She came to him.

"Raf… I…" As he looked at her, the pain and grief in her eyes were startlingly evident. He wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly to him. She could barely hold herself together. Her body vibrated, struggling against the waves surging within it. "I love you too."

"Look after yourself Liv. And Noah. Tell him I said hi. And for God's sake, don't let him go to Hudson."

She smiled through her tears at the memory of the late-night conversation they'd shared after one of the many cases they'd dealt with involving that institution. "Don't worry, it'll be Harvard all the way."

He returned her smile. "Thank you. For everything. I really am a better person for having known you, Olivia Benson."

Her tears fell freely once more. "And I you, Rafael Barba." Because as much as she'd changed him, he'd changed her too. Most definitely for the better.

If that was the last time he ever heard his given name, he couldn't have asked for it to be filled with more love and affection.

"If I can come back one day, I will. I promise. But don't wait for me. Live your life. Enjoy it. Be happy." He couldn't bring himself to say that if she could be happy with Tucker then she should be. He didn't know what was going to happen there now, and he didn't want to add to her pain.

She took a step back. The steadiness of his voice calmed her and, finding balance in his eyes, she recomposed herself.

He turned again to the door, stopping short of stepping out, half expecting her to stop him. She didn't and he crossed the threshold. Taking the knob in hand, he looked back to her, studying her face. She maintained eye contact. He smiled softly then pulled the door shut behind him.

Almost as soon as he'd closed it, she leapt forward and grasped the door handle. She began to turn it... but let her hand fall. Deep down she knew he had to go. As she began to move away, she heard a sound - a brushing noise on the outside of the door. She could hear the wood groan a bit as Rafael put his weight against it, leaning heavily into it. Several moments passed with no motion. Then, just as suddenly, she could hear the wood relax as his weight was removed from it.

Nothing more.

 _Because I knew you..._  
 _Because I knew you...  
Because I knew you...  
I have been changed for good._


	3. December Solstice: Post-Ep

**A/N:** Post-Ep for 16x16: December Solstice. Benson supports Barba through his Grandmother's death.

* * *

It was a miserable day. The clouds, black and threatening, covered the sky, occasionally dropping a few spots of rain on the world below. The sun tried in vain to peek through the black curtains but was thwarted at every turn. Shaking off and closing her umbrella, Olivia slipped quietly into the back of the beautiful, old Catholic Church in downtown New York. Although not particularly religious herself, she had always found something comforting in the dim lights, the stained glass, and the flickering candles in these places. But not today. Today she was too filled with grief and sorrow. She hadn't known the woman whose requiem mass she was attending, she hadn't specifically been invited to the service, but she'd wanted to be there. For Barba.

He was seated next to his mother in the front row. They sat in silence, listening to the priest as he spoke softly, regretfully. As her gaze settled on them, she wondered how he was holding up. It had been almost a week since she had seen him. Since he'd turned up at her apartment, on the afternoon of his Grandmother's death.

* * *

 _She opened the door a fraction, Noah balanced on her hip, to find Barba stood on the other side. "Barba!" Opening the door fully she got a proper look at him; he was pale and drawn, with a hint of redness around his eyes. "Is everything okay?"_

 _"_ _I…" He looked from her, noting her casual dress of yoga pants and an oversized NYPD sweatshirt, to Noah, who was wearing a onesie emblazoned with dinosaurs. His head was laid against his mom's shoulder and he was rubbing his eyes. It was clear to him that he'd arrived either at or during, naptime. The thought that he may have woken her or Noah intensified his feelings of despondency. "Y'know what, never mind. I shouldn't have bothered you. I'm sorry."_

 _He turned to leave, but her hand on his arm stopped him. "What's happened?" She had seen him sad before, when a verdict hadn't gone their way, or when he was listening to particularly harrowing testimony, but not like this. Never this inconsolable. He looked almost completely broken._

 _"_ _My grandmother… she…" His eyes glistened as he spoke, "she died."_

 _"_ _Oh Rafael, I'm sorry." She rarely used his first name, but given the circumstances, it felt right. He wasn't here now as an ADA, he was here because he needed a friend. She ran her hand down his arm and took his hand. Stepping backwards into her hallway, she pulled Barba inside. Allowing the door to slam shut behind them, she led them further into the apartment where she placed Noah on the floor next to his shape-sorter and began to clear the couch "Sorry about the mess; we were having some snuggle time."_

 _Barba watched as she scooped up several of Noah's soft toys from the sofa and placed them in the toy box, and folded the throw blankets that they'd clearly been wrapped in._

 _Olivia motioned to the now clear sofa. "Have a seat. Can I get you anything… a drink maybe?"_

 _"_ _No. Thank you. I'm good," he assured her, taking a seat as instructed. She joined him and for a few moments, they sat in silence, content to watch Noah as he tried to manipulate the shapes to get them in the holes, his tongue sticking out in concentration. Barba chuckled softly at him. "Persistent little fella, isn't he?"_

 _"_ _When the mood takes him yeah. Most of the time it's endearing, but not when he's trying to get another story at bedtime or, his favourite cookies for breakfast."_

 _Barba was quiet again as he continued to watch the little boy. He was suddenly assaulted by memories of his own childhood; time spent with his beloved Abuelita. "My grandmother used to bake the best cookies in the whole of el barrio, I'd have eaten them for breakfast, lunch and dinner if could. Sometimes, when Mami wasn't looking, she'd sneak me an extra one with a little wink. It was our little secret. When I went to Harvard, she used to send me batches of them. The days they arrived, I was the most popular guy in the dorm. Even on my first ever day in court, I arrived home to find a box sat on my kitchen counter with a little note saying, 'Bien hecho, Nieto. Te quiero.'"_

 _His voice broke as he remembered how proud she was of him when he'd finished law school, the way she would tell him he was going to be a judge someday. She'd been proud of him and he'd let her down in the worse way._

 _It broke Olivia's heart to see him like that. She felt the tears well up in her own eyes and threaten to break forth as he sought solace in her embrace. She rocked him gently, speaking soothing words of comfort._

 _His grief had been intermittent throughout the afternoon and evening. He'd stayed for dinner, although he'd barely touched his and then he'd helped her bathe Noah. It wasn't something she'd expected him to want to do, but she assumed he was just looking for the distraction. After Noah was asleep they'd talked some more and he'd shared more memories of his Grandmother. This had led to more tears and him finally succumbing to the exhaustion that grief had brought, she'd covered him up on the couch at and left him to sleep._

 _Later, he'd entered her bedroom to tell her was going to go home but she had wordlessly held out a hand and invited him to her bed, where he'd curled himself around her, clinging to her. She'd tried not to think about how good his arms felt around her, or let herself give in to the delicious pleasure of his warmth. She'd forced herself to think of his sorrow and sank willingly with him into fatigue._

 _She awoke the next morning alone. A hastily scribbled note stood on her bedside table._

 _'_ _Thank you, Liv_

 _R x'_

* * *

At the conclusion of the service, Father Espinoza joined the family, embracing each of them in turn and offering his condolences. Rafael barely acknowledged his presence when he returned his handshake. He had remained stony-faced, and clear-eyed throughout the funeral, determined not to let his guard down.

One by one, family and friends filed past Lucia Barba and her son, unintentionally mimicking the priest's actions in the vain hope of offering some sort of comfort to the family. Whilst Lucia responded warmly to their hugs, Rafael seemed to find it an imposition and remained steely-faced throughout.

What the mourners didn't know was that Rafael was struggling. Struggling to control his emotions, which threatened to erupt in an unstoppable flow of tears and despair at any moment. But he couldn't let himself go - not here, not in front of all these people, and especially not in front of his Mami who, right now, needed his strength more than she'd ever needed it before.

Finally, the endless procession was over. Rafael let himself relax ever so slightly, as he turned to smile weakly at his cousin Emilio. He didn't notice the quiet figure who had hung back waiting for the crowd to disperse and everybody else had left. He still didn't notice her, even as she approached him and his family. It wasn't until he heard his mother whisper, "Sergeant Benson," that he realised his colleague, his friend, had joined them. He hadn't even realised she was here. He turned slowly back to his mother and saw Olivia standing in front of her, with her hand lightly resting on her shoulder.

"Mrs Barba, I am so sorry for your loss. If there's anything I can do…" While the words were not dissimilar from those that had been uttered by everyone else who had been before, the sincerity was unmistakable and the emotion in her voice could not be manufactured.

"Thank you, Sergeant."

Rafael watched this exchange in silence. Seeing Olivia brought on a wave of emotion so strong he had to look away. He sensed that she was now standing in front of him and his face turned towards her - fighting the desire to let go of his pain. Their eyes locked - Rafael breathed in sharply; her eyes were so full of understanding and knowledge, but most of all they were full of pain...Her eyes were a mirror of his own, and suddenly the feelings that he had tried to repress throughout the funeral erupted. Deep from the pit of his stomach, he felt a choking sob catch in his throat:

"Liv..." Rafael haltingly spoke her name, before his face crumpled and the tears started to flow.

Confronted once more with Rafael's grief, Olivia was unable to stem the gentle flow of her own tears. Rafael reached for her and wrapped his arms around her neck, gently lowering his head onto her shoulder. She returned the embrace tightly and they stood, drawing comfort and strength from each other. There was no need for words; she understood him completely. He desperately needed to grieve for that which was lost. He needed her like he'd never needed anyone before in his life.

Slowly their tears subsided but they remained intertwined, neither of them yet ready to leave the safety and comfort of the embrace. It was Rafael who eventually moved first, gently sliding his hands down until they rested by his sides. At his retreat, Olivia slowly straightened, lifting her arms from her colleague's back so they gently rested on his shoulders. Olivia wiped his damp cheeks with the tips of her fingers, like she did for Noah, and then let her hand drop to her side. Rafael felt a presence behind him and turned to find his mother standing there, along with his aunt and Emilio hovering not far behind. Lucia Barba's face was tender as she spoke, "Rafi, Emilio is going to drive me and Tía Cristina home. Do you want to come back with us?"

"No, I think I'll just go home." Rafael's voice was barely a whisper, and he couldn't look his mother in the eyes, fearful of what he might see there.

Lucia looked at her son, trying to decide what the best thing to do was, eventually deciding that it would be no good trying to force Rafael to come home with her. When that boy had made up his mind about something there was little chance of changing it. "Okay," she nodded. "Will you be all right getting home?"

Rafael resisted the urge to roll his eyes and remind his mother, yet again, that he was a grown man of forty-two and was perfectly capable of getting himself home. Instead, he picked his phone out of his pocket. "I'll Uber," he said, swiping his thumb across the illuminated screen.

"I can drive you," offered Olivia.

Lucia's face relaxed into a small, relieved smile, knowing that her son wouldn't be alone. "Thank you, Sergeant Benson."

Rafael said nothing, but he was glad Olivia had offered her assistance. The last thing he felt like doing right now was jumping into a stranger's car and being forced to make small talk for the duration of the drive. He would never have asked her for her help though; he didn't want her to be under the impression that he'd turned into some helpless old fool. Besides, spending time with her was what he needed now; someone to lean on, someone to help him find some semblance of normality.

* * *

They drove towards Rafael's condo in silence. When they stopped at a red light, Olivia stole a glance at him. He looked tired and worn out. She wondered how long he'd gone without sleep: from the look of his drawn, pale face she guessed it had been a few days at least. She could clearly imagine what kind of hell he must have been going through these last few days - not only having to cope with the death of his Grandmother, but also needing to come to terms with his own feelings of guilt and responsibility over the matter, and all the while also struggling to be the strong one for his mother family: for she knew that being an only child, that would have been the role that he would have immediately assumed.

That he blamed himself for his grandmother's death was a certainty in Olivia's mind after some of the comments he'd choked out through sobs the previous week in her apartment - and she knew the kind of agony that you could inflict on yourself with feelings of guilt. She knew because she'd been doing it for years. For her, it was a well-worn path; she had blamed herself for her mother's misery since she was able to comprehend what had happened to her. No matter how many times people – her therapist, her friends, Elliot, Cragen, Munch and even Barba himself - had tried to assure her that she wasn't to blame, self-loathing had continued to gnaw at him. And now, she could see the same thing happening to Barba.

Rafael raised his eyebrows when Olivia pulled into the visitors' section of his building's carpark, turned off the ignition and got out of the car. He didn't protest though, so Olivia kept walking with him, accompanying him up to his floor.

"I probably won't be the best company, but can you… are you able to stay for a bit?" he asked wearily, as he put the key in the lock. He didn't really want to speak to anyone, but he didn't want to be alone either. He knew from the previous few evenings how easy it would be to get lost in a bottle of scotch if left to his own devices.

The door was open now and Olivia followed him inside. "Lucy is with Noah; she's happy to stay as late as needed. So yes, I can stay."

They moved into the living room and Rafael removed his coat, jacket and tie, placing them over the back of the couch before sitting down. Olivia joined him, placing her own coat atop his. Sensing he didn't want to talk, she reached for the remote that was lying on the coffee table and switched on the television. Neither of them really wanted to watch it, but it provided background noise and something to focus on, other than his grief.

A little while later, Olivia turned to Barba. "Do you mind if I grab some water?"

"Of course. Sorry. I should have offered. I'm a poor host. Abuelita would be furious with me..." he scoffed at his own words. "Well, more so than she already was." His emotions shifted and tears pooled in his eyes again as he remembered her anger at him. H

Olivia excused herself to the kitchen but quickly returned with two glasses of water. She placed one in front of Rafael before rounding the table to re-join him.

He swept his tears away with the back of his hand. "I'm sorry. I just… I keep thinking about all the things I should have done or said…"

She placed her hand on his forearm and was surprised to encounter bare skin. He'd rolled his sleeves up while she'd been in the kitchen. "It's normal to have regrets when someone dies. To think about what we would have done differently given the chance."

"But it was my fault. I shouldn't have pushed her to move." And there was the crux of his grief. While she'd given him hints that he felt responsible, he'd not come out and said it so directly before. "She didn't want to leave her apartment. She said she wanted to die in her own home. And she did. What if she died sooner than she should have because of me?"

"Rafael, you can't think like that." She slid her hand down his arm to grasp his hand. "Your grandmother was old, she was sick, she passed away. It was not your fault."

Rafael tensed but didn't remove his hand from her grip. "My mother blames me." His voice was huskier and deeper than usual and Olivia could tell he was nearing his breaking point.

Olivia shook her head, "No, she doesn't," she assured him. "She may say so now but she's hurting. She doesn't believe it. Not really." She moved to kneel in front of him, encasing both his hands in her own. "It was not. Your. Fault," she repeated gently but firmly.

She lifted her arms, wrapping them around his neck and pulling him close. She rested her head on his shoulder as she rubbed his back soothingly.

"Liv," his voice whispered against her ear. A plea for reassurance, a declaration of need.

"I'm here Rafael," she said gently, fingers playing with the soft hair at the base of his neck. "I'm here." She wanted to tell him that she loved him, to say that he would always have her. But now wasn't the time.

Rafael straightened and sank back into the couch, pulling Olivia up with him. She offered no resistance as he settled her on his lap, straddling his legs. He buried his head in the crook of her neck, breathing her in deeply.

She leaned comfortably against him, her closeness calming him. He began to lift his head, to tell her how much he appreciated her support when his lips accidentally brushed against her skin. He froze for a second before temptation took over. Parting his lips, he placed a gentle kiss just below her ear.

Olivia was surprised to feel his lips caress her neck. She hesitated only a moment before letting herself accept it. She leaned back, exposing more of her skin to him. Electricity flooded her body as he kissed his way towards her collarbone.

Rafael pulled back to look into her eyes, vulnerability and need evident on his face. "Is this okay?"

Her eyes met his with reassurance and she caressed his cheek. "It's more than okay."

She leaned towards him, kissing him, feeling his lips against hers for the first time. It was heaven. He returned the kiss, his lips moving softly, gently over hers.

When they parted, Rafael rested his forehead against hers. "I've wanted to kiss you for so long, Liv."

"Why didn't you?"

"Didn't want to lose you if it didn't work out," he admitted.

"Well, we'll just have to make sure it does then, won't we?" Olivia declared. "Squabbling with each other at 85, remember?"

Rafael smiled. "Definitely."

Their lips met once more and the kiss soon became heated. His tongue slid over her lips, a delicious tease, requesting permission. Her lips parted and his tongue slipped inside, greedy for more of her. All of her. His hand moved to her hair and she slid hers down to his back, pressing her palms against his shoulder blades.

As the passion between them intensified, Rafael couldn't help but become aroused. He'd waited so long to hold her, kiss her, touch her like this, and it felt _so_ good. He could happily drown in her. His free hand fell to her hip, drawing her closer, pressing their bodies tight together, eliciting a breathy groan from him at the contact.

There was no mistaking the sound that came from the back of Rafael's throat, and there was certainly no mistaking the insistent bulge suddenly pressing against Olivia.

Rafael's fingers toyed with the hem of her shirt, brushing against her bare skin, as they edged the material upwards. Olivia placed a hand in the centre of his chest and pushed herself away. Gently, but insistently. He complied, relinquishing his hold on her.

"Should we feel guilty about doing this?" Olivia asked, breathless.

"You mean, given the circumstance?"

"Yeah."

Rafael shook his head. "Abuelita used to say that during a time of death, life should be celebrated. I've mourned Liv and I'll continue to, but right now, I want to feel life again." He drew her face back to his but didn't close the distance completely, their lips hovering millimetres from each other. "You are my life Liv. I don't feel any guilt and neither should you."

"Whatever you say, Counsellor," she conceded, her hands beginning to unfasten the buttons on his shirt. "Whatever you say."


	4. Did we?

**A/N:** Another Barson one-shot. Written in the space of a day and unbeta'd so sorry for any mistakes.

 _"Olivia wakes up in a bedroom that is definitely not hers…and she's not alone."_

* * *

 _Saturday morning..._

The first thing Olivia Benson was aware of upon waking was that the light in the room was all wrong. The second thing was the throbbing in her head. She blinked at the light. The room was totally unfamiliar to her. The bed was totally unfamiliar to her. And so was the naked shoulder that her hand rested on.

Startled, she slid away from the body next to her and eased herself up to a sitting position pulling the sheet up to her neck. She swept a wayward lock of hair out of her eyes and bit her lip as she considered the lump next to her. With a gathering sense of doom, she peeked at person with whom she had obviously spent the night.

"Oh my God!" The words burst from her before she could stop them. She had no memory of how she ended up here… in _his_ bed.

Disturbed by another voice, Rafael Barba's eyes popped open and then squinted painfully against the light. "Wha…?" He stopped and focused his eyes on her, then looked around the bedroom wildly. "Shit!" He slid quickly to his edge of the bed. "Oh shit," he repeated, turning slowly to face Olivia. They gazed at each other in shock.

It took an eternity for each of them to take stock of their surroundings. Her clothes were dumped with reckless abandon on the chair. His were in a pile on the floor. For a moment they were both hypnotised by the sight of his suspenders dangling from the ceiling fan, fluttering in circles.

"Are we...?" Rafael began. He tried again, "Did we...?" He couldn't bring himself to finish the thought.

Olivia winced. So, he couldn't remember either then. "Well," she said shakily. "I'm definitely…erm, naked under here."

Rafael took a brief peek under his side of the sheet then he slowly closed his eyes as though he never wanted to open them in this world again. Olivia took advantage of Rafael's self-imposed exile to reach down for the blanket at the end of the bed and pull it up and around herself. She slid out from under the sheet and stood on rather wobbly legs. Her head throbbed mercilessly. "Could I use the...uh...?"

Without opening his eyes, Rafael pointed in the direction of the en-suite. Olivia set off for the bathroom, staggering slightly. Once inside she closed the door behind her and leaned on it. She pressed the heels of her hands against her temples and took several deep breaths. What the hell had happened last night?

Oh, right. Jack McCoy's retirement party at The Flatiron Room, one of Chelsea's finest Whiskey Houses. She'd been surprised to receive an invitation, she hadn't worked directly with him that much, but she'd attended out of a sense of obligation and pressure from Chief Dodds to 'make nice'. The main event of the evening had been a single malt whiskey "tasting." She'd only meant to have one or two, but people kept pushing glasses into her hand and there were no buckets to spit into once you'd tasted it. Rafael had been there; he'd been enjoying sampling the whiskeys too. She remembered crossing the room to talk to him and... the rest was blank. What had happened afterwards?

She straightened up and padded over to the mirror to take stock. Leaning in toward her reflection she examined her face. Uh-oh. Stubble rash on her left cheek and chin. Quickly, she inspected her neck. No marks, thankfully. She felt that post-sexual lassitude and looseness in her joints and muscles. Taking a deep breath, she unwrapped the blanket and looked down at herself. Oh yes. No doubt about it. "Well," she said to her reflection. "You've really outdone yourself this time, Olivia"

Olivia turned on the cold tap and splashed water on her face. What now? She looked in the mirror again. Her hair was at odd angles and traces of smeared lipstick stained her swollen lips. The first order of business was to clean up. She re-wrapped the blanket around herself and crossed to the door. Opening it, she cautiously peeked into the bedroom. Rafael was no longer in bed. He had put on a pair of jeans and was standing topless in the other doorway rhythmically, but very gently, banging his forehead against the doorframe. He was muttering in Spanish. "Dios mío ¿Qué he hecho?"

She cleared her throat to get his attention. He stopped his litany and turned toward her, his face carefully neutral. "Can I use the shower?" she asked. They tried valiantly to look each other in the face but failed, eyes sliding away to rest on something else. Anything else.

"Help yourself," he nodded, rubbing the side of his face reflectively. "There's some clean towels under the sink."

"Thanks." She pulled her face back and shut the door. Soaking under the hot spray of the shower, she tried again to remember. There was a vague impression of sitting in the back seat of a moving car. Of someone's mouth close to her ear. Of a baritone voice speaking... Rafael's voice. Wanting to turn toward it... Turning toward it... The rest was a blank _._

She turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. She was retrieving the towels, nice fluffy white ones, from the cupboard under the sink when another fragmented memory came to her. They were in his bedroom. Clothes were flying everywhere. There was a dim memory of his suspenders sailing into the air and catching on the fan and the fading echo of her own voice breathlessly claiming, "Bulls-eye". Followed by his laughter.

Hot on the heels of that memory came another. Strong arms around her. Her arms around his neck, hands on warm skin... "Stop!" she hissed, eyes squeezed shut. "Just stop!"

Thankfully, the memories receded.

Once dry, Olivia finger-combed her damp hair and, once again, peeked out of the door. Rafael was not in sight. A stab of disappointment caught her off guard. Shaking it off, she crossed the threshold into the bedroom and looked around. The bed had been made and her panties, bra and stockings were folded neatly on the end of the bed. Next to them, a pair of grey sweatpants and a Harvard t-shirt had been left for her. Her shoes were set primly side by side on the floor below and with them, her purse. Her skirt and blouse were nowhere to be seen.

She stared at the pile, unable to get past the fact that Rafael had put them there. Rafael had touched her underwear and... She felt dizzy all of a sudden and sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. She closed her eyes to fight off the nausea and was assaulted by a vivid memory of Rafael's large, warm hands gliding over her skin, up under her top, her bra loosening as they'd approached her aching breasts. Moans of desire and anticipation escaping her throat as they'd moved ever closer to where she'd wanted them, squeezing, stroking, caressing.

Grimly, she put on her underwear. Over that, the t-shirt and sweatpants. She looked in the mirror; the t-shirt was a little tight over her chest, but it would have to do. Besides, it was a little late for her to be worrying about modesty. She stuffed her stockings into her purse and, carrying her shoes, opened the other door and was met by the heady fragrance of freshly brewed coffee. She sniffed longingly and stepped out. She found herself on the landing of a short stairway that led down to a living room and adjoining kitchen.

Rafael, now fully dressed, was standing in the kitchen carefully and contritely pressing the wrinkles out of her blouse with a steam iron. And he was doing a rather a good job too, she noticed. Her skirt, already pressed, hung on the open door.

"Hi," she said shyly as she entered.

He looked up at her. "Find everything?" he asked. She nodded and ventured further in. "There's coffee in the pot," he told her.

"Thanks." She crossed to the kitchen and poured the steaming black brew into the mug that had obviously been set there for her. Fresh ground. So much nicer than her usual instant. Sipping gratefully, she went back and focused on Rafael. He looked so different away from the office; softer, somehow.

"I can finish that," Olivia gestured toward the iron.

He nodded. "I'll just go and..." he gestured up the stairs.

She nodded. They gave each other wide berth in passing. Olivia lifted the iron and got to work. Just before he made the stairs she spoke. "There's one thing..." He froze. "Were we... safe... last night?" Her voice shook slightly. She kept her eyes firmly on her ironing. There was a lengthy silence. Then she heard him swallow.

"There is... evidence... to that effect," he said.

She didn't realize she was holding her breath until she exhaled in relief. Good. No drunk driving and no unprotected sex. Not that there was much chance of her getting pregnant. She was clean too and she was pretty sure he was, but she didn't like the thought that she could be reckless when so inebriated.

When she heard him turn on the shower she quickly changed back into her old clothes and fished her cell phone out of her purse to call a taxi to take her home before she realised with chagrin that she didn't know the address to ask them to pick her up.

Then another memory welled up from the deep. Coming through the door, she'd slid on something. Rafael had caught her, nearly going down himself. Olivia smiled. Post. Letters and bills; that's what she'd nearly slipped on. She guessed correctly that the front door was to the side of the stairway. The mail was on the floor. She scooped it up and noted the address before pitching the loose envelopes on a table probably placed for that very purpose. She began to dial.

He was coming down the stairs as she finished her call.

"I called a taxi," she told him. "It should be here in a few minutes."

"Ah. Right."

A few minutes. How to fill those minutes? This was hell. They stood not quite facing each other, arms folded. Olivia gestured toward Rafael's CD collection which she'd perused idly while on the phone. "I never figured you for Bowie fan."

"Oh yeah. From a long time ago."

"I would have guessed more classical and possibly soft jazz."

"Can't stand jazz and as for classical I…," he told her, his voice trailing off. They looked at each other in confusion. "Didn't we already have this conversation?" he asked.

"I think so... at the bar, I think. At least I'm pretty sure."

He groaned softly. "Liv," he shook his head slowly. "I am _so_ sorry about..."

She held up her hands to stop him. "Don't," she said. "You don't owe me an apology."

"But I do. I shouldn't have kissed you."

The memory had come back to him whilst in the shower and as he said the words, Olivia remembered too. They'd both had a fair bit to drink and as the alcohol lowered their inhibitions, their gentle teasing had soon crossed the line into flirting and they'd touched each other more readily; her hand on his knee, his arm draped over the back of her chair, fingers brushing her shoulder. After a couple of hours – more than enough time to be considered 'making nice' in Olivia's opinion – they'd left.

The cold air that had hit them as they stepped outside, caused her to shiver and Rafael had offered her his jacket. As he wrapped it around her shoulders, she'd smiled at him. Seconds later, she was pressed against the wall, Rafael's mouth on hers. Neither could be sure how long they had stood there, lips locked and arms wandering, a wolf-whistle from a passer-by broke the spell momentarily. Rafael had grabbed her hand and hailed a cab, where their kisses had continued on the back seat.

Rafael rubbed his hand across his face. Had he taken advantage of his best friend? He didn't remember asking her consent. He'd like to think he had, but he couldn't be sure.

"Rafa, I've had self-defence training, so you obviously didn't drag me here against my will or I'd have beaten you off…" She smiled mischievously. "Or shot you." And we both know that you're not the type of guy who would pressure a woman into sex. What happened last night was something between consenting, albeit very drunk, adults."

"It's not that easy, Liv. How many times have you told me that intoxication takes away a woman's ability to consent?"

"It _is_ that easy," she insisted. "I promise you I don't feel violated in any way. Embarrassed? Yes. Taken advantage of?" She shook her head. "Definitely not."

They stared at each other. "Well," he said finally. "At least let me pay." He pulled his wallet from his back pocket.

"WHAT?!"

Startled he looked at her. His eyes widened when he realized what she thought he meant. "For the taxi, Liv!" he pointed out the window where the driver had pulled up outside. "I meant for the taxi! It's the least I can do..." He put a hand over his eyes helplessly. "I didn't mean...I'd never..."

"Oh." Olivia blushed scarlet. "The taxi. Oh... No, that won't be necessary."

Face flaming, she shouldered her purse and strode to the door, yanked it open and marched to the waiting taxi. She climbed in and, against her better judgement, looked back at the house. As the cab pulled away she could see Rafael standing in his doorway, once again rhythmically banging his forehead against the doorframe.

* * *

 _Monday…_

Fin finished reading aloud the findings from the ME's office and looked up from the paper to find he did not have an audience. Rafael stood at the window staring out and Olivia was staring at a point on the floor between them. Fin glanced down but couldn't see anything of interest. "So?" he asked, his eyes flicking from one to the other, "Any questions?"

Two faces turned toward him. "What?" they asked simultaneously.

"Am I the only one listenin' to me?" Fin asked pointedly.

"Sorry." Rafael sat down in his chair. "I have some prep work to do for a meeting with the new DA later today and my attention is... divided. Leave the findings with me. I'll go over it and get back to you." Rafael shuffled some papers, not looking at him.

Fin looked over at Olivia, his expression quizzical. He hoped she could offer some insight into the ADAs behaviour, she normally could so he assumed she'd know what was wrong with him. She merely shrugged back noncommittally. They rose from their chairs and made their way toward the door.

"Liv," Rafael called after her. "You got a minute?"

She stopped, glancing at Fin. He leaned toward her and noting the ADA's mood, wished her, "Good luck."

When Fin had left and the door was closed, Olivia turned to face Rafael. He looked at her steadily and she returned his gaze. "We should talk," he said.

"Okay," she agreed. He rose and walked around the desk, taking a seat on the sofa with his arms folded across his chest. She took the opposite end, mirroring his posture. They sat in companionable silence for a moment.

"Liv, the other night was..." he stopped, searching for the right words.

"Actually quite nice," she offered, blushing as she spoke. The memories had flooded back to her a few hours after she'd left Rafael's house. She remembered every minute of their night together vividly. She was extremely thankful that her memories had returned, she didn't know if she would be able to live with knowing she'd slept with him but not knowing what it had been like. Especially considering it wouldn't be happening again.

A slight smile toyed with the corners of his mouth. "It all came back to you then?" he asked.

"Yes; all of it… in great detail."

"So, what does that mean?" Rafael asked meeting her gaze. "What happens now?"

"Nothing Rafael." His smile faded. "We can't do this; we have to maintain a professional relationship." Even as she said the words she hated them; what she actually wanted to say was that of course, they could have a relationship outside of the office. That they would be able to fathom their way through it.

"Of course," he nodded looking down at his hands. "I understand."

"No, you don't," she said simply. He looked up again and waited to hear the rest of it. Her eyes searched his face as though wondering how much she should say, what words she should use. "If it was just about you? About us? About the way I feel? Then it wouldn't be an issue..."

"But?" he prompted gently.

"But it isn't just about us. Dodds would have a coronary and I'm not sure the DA would fare any better. I can see the headlines now, can't you? 'Conflict of interest in the DA's office!"

Rafael sat very still for a moment, thinking. He wanted to be with her, but he wasn't prepared to lose her friendship by pushing the issue. "Okay. He sounded resigned; lost. "We'll always have The Flatiron Room," he said, forcing a smile as he referenced Casablanca; one of her favourite films.

"Right, I'd better get back," Olivia said, hating to see him so forlorn; knowing that she'd done this to him. She smiled at him apologetically, "I'm sorry Rafa. It's not what I want; you _have_ to know that. It's just…" she shrugged; she'd given him her reasons.

As she approached the door, Rafael saw his chance slipping away; if he didn't convince her to give them a go now, he'd lose her forever. "If it's not what you want then don't do it," he implored. She stopped, but continued to face the door, knowing that looking at him would make her task even harder. It didn't deter Rafael however; he ploughed on. "Liv, you and I both know that we wouldn't have ended up in bed together if there hadn't been some underlying feelings. You're not the kind of person who engages in drunken sex to satisfy a need and neither am I." He stepped towards her, taking her hands in his. "Maybe when I was younger, but hell, Liv, I haven't looked at another woman in five years; not since…" he took a breath. This was it, time to lay it all out there. "Not since I came to Manhattan and met you."

"Rafa…" Her eyes widened, not expecting his admission.

"Why are we denying ourselves Liv? Because it's in the best interests of the 1PP or the DA's office? Screw them!" He leant forward to whisper in her ear. "We could be so good together, Liv. You know we could. Don't walk away from this. From us." He backed away and perched on the corner of his desk, knowing that she would need space to make her decision.

After a few seconds of consideration, she approached him and stood in between his legs. He couldn't look at her though, worried about her answer. "Rafa?" Her tone was soft and she sounded… happy? That thought gave him a spark of hope and he slowly lifted his eyes until they met hers. She was smiling. "It probably won't be easy but… you're right. We should at least try."

Relief flooded through him. "Do you mean that?"

Olivia nodded. "I'm not in the habit of lying Rafael. I wouldn't do that to you; I couldn't."

He smiled at her then. "Have dinner with me? Tonight? I know a place I think you'll like."

"I'd love to," she beamed, stretching up to kiss him; their first kiss since that night. It was full of energy and passion and Olivia was grateful that the blinds were closed. The kiss was better than either of them remembered, probably down to the fact that they were sober now. When they finally broke apart a few minutes later, both were breathing heavily. Composing herself, Olivia reluctantly pulled away. "I should get back to work," she explained and headed for the door, turning back as she reached it. "What time are you picking me up?"

"Is seven too early?"

"Can we make it seven thirty? That way I can put Noah to bed."

He nodded. "Seven thirty it is."

She flashed him a hundred-watt smile. "I'll see you later then."

When she left his office, Olivia was still smiling. Fin, who had been speaking to Carmen whilst waiting for Olivia, glanced at her and then back to the office. Rafael had opened his blinds and was looking out; his eyes following Olivia as she left. she noticed Rafael's eyes on her and she blushed, and glanced around, conscious of Carmen and Fin.

Watching his boss and the ADA, everything clicked together in Fin's head; their growing closeness over the past few months, this morning's awkwardness, Olivia's smile, Rafael's gaze and the way everything seemed to be sorted now they'd spent some time alone.

Fin grinned to himself; he had a feeling he'd just won the squad's betting pool.


	5. The Return of Yelina

Prosecuting a public figure was never easy. It was a process filled with pitfalls and challenges. Roadblocks were thrown up from every direction. It was even harder when the perp was your ADA's former best friend. That situation came with its own unique set of problems. And those problems didn't just magically disappear when a conviction was secured. Oh no. Alex Muñoz had been convicted of possession of child pornography and political corruption almost 5 years ago but had last week announced that he was appealing his conviction.

Given all the media attention and comments, made by his wife, Yelina, it didn't entirely come as a surprise for Olivia to find the woman in her office. Despite all the evidence against him, the woman – who was by all accounts quite intelligent - had chosen to stand by her man. Olivia couldn't understand it, but she had made her choice. The years of friendship (and more) that she had shared with Rafael Barba had meant nothing when it had come down to it. She chose Alex, just as she had done all those years ago when she'd broken a younger Rafael's heart.

This time, Yelina was determined to break more than his heart to get what she wanted. To gather momentum for her husband's appeal she was going after Rafael to discredit him. Olivia had already fielded several calls from journalists asking questions about his conduct and his convictions. It seemed she wasn't content with trying to blow apart his professional life, but his private life too. She'd been having him followed.

"I wonder what your bosses would say if they knew about this," Yelina asked, waving a stack of photographs at Olivia before tossing them onto her desk.

Olivia barely gave the pile a second glance, she didn't need to. She remembered every documented moment in vivid detail. A few dinners, drinks, a trip to the theatre or two… and some other things.

She couldn't quite explain the shift in their relationship. She hadn't gone looking for anything, especially not with him – she vowed never to date another lawyer after the David Haden fiasco. But it had snuck up on her. They'd worked well together and had, over the years, become friends. Somewhere along the line, he'd become her best friend. She felt closer to him than she ever had to anyone before, including Elliot. Then suddenly, quite unpredictably, it was something else. Without warning, their daily interactions were laced with a deeper meaning that left her breathless and longing for more. The casual touches became more frequent and prolonged and the looks they shared… suffice to say that they left her a little hot under the collar at times.

As she paced behind her desk, her hand caught the photo on the top of the pile and lifted it. She almost smiled as she recalled the event. It was weeks ago, which meant Yelina had been having him followed for a while. That incensed her, almost to the point where she couldn't enjoy the photo. Rafael would like this one, she thought, once he'd gotten over his anger.

"Rafi is getting naughty in his old age," drawled Yelina. "I mean, you're practically making out and little league."

Noah had been begging her to play T-Ball for a while and, once the weather had improved, she'd finally relented. Rafael had accompanied her to a couple of games. It had been Noah's request at first, he'd insisted that the whole team be present for his first game and, being too young to understand the intricacies of the New York justice system, that included Rafael and Melinda as well as Munch and Cragen. Olivia hadn't been sure Rafael would show, it was hardly his scene. But he'd surprised her (and the rest of squad) when he'd shown up, sans jacket, in jeans and a t-shirt and whooped and cheered at every ball Noah had hit and every catch he'd made.

That particular photo had been taken at a game a few weeks later when she was accompanied by only Rafael. She was leaning back against his legs as they sat on the bleachers watching, he on the level above her. He was bent forward, speaking to her while both their gazes were directed at the field. He had an arm casually draped over her shoulder, pointing at whatever they'd been discussing. It could have been explained away as entirely innocent… except for the way she was leaning to one side, against his knee, and the hand that was lying against his calf while she gestured in conversation with the other.

She supposed it did speak of a level of familiarity that wasn't exactly simple, but it was hardly the most incriminating image that Yelina's private investigator had caught.

Olivia picked up the next one on the pile. She felt her anger rising. It was a picture snapped on Rafael's balcony, an intrusion that could not be forgiven. She easily recalled the evening, it was only last week. After attending a charity benefit in a professional capacity, they'd returned to his apartment for coffee and to wind down after a night of schmoozing and networking. She'd gone out onto his balcony for some fresh air, while the kettle boiled, and he had followed her. She stood against the railing, him behind, pressed up against her, his hands on her hips. Caught on camera was the moment he dropped a kiss to her bare shoulder, beside the thin strap of the red dress she had worn that night. She knew she couldn't really complain about photos taken in public places such as the baseball field or out on the street. But his balcony, that was his private domain, an extension of his home. There was an expectation of privacy there.

"This stops now," Olivia declared, waving the photos between them. "Or I will slap your PI with a restraining order."

Yelina smirked. "Something to hide, Lieutenant?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

She met Yelina's gaze. "No." She and Rafael hadn't been hiding the change in their relationship; they just hadn't been advertising it. It would have to come out now though. Although she wasn't relishing talking to Rafael about this.

"I can see the headlines now, 'Conflict of interest in the DA's office'. Your judgement will be brought into question. Every case you two have ever brought could be put under the microscope."

Olivia nodded knowingly. "Including your husband's? Is that what this is all about? You think by discrediting me, by discrediting Rafael, that it will help Alex's case. Or is it about revenge for us going after him; for the fact that Rafael wouldn't look the other way."

"My husband is innocent," Yelina snarled. "And I will do anything to get him out of jail and home."

"If he was innocent, he wouldn't be in jail in the first place," Olivia retorted. She rounded the desk and stood in front of the other woman. "Your husband is where he belongs. And, as long as I am in charge here, I will make sure he stays there."

Yelina met Olivia's gaze intently. "We'll see." She turned on her heel and made to leave, her long woollen coat twirling around her knees. As she reached the door, she stopped, her hand on the doorknob. She turned back to Olivia. "I wouldn't put much faith in a future with Rafi. He's a self-absorbed workaholic with the beginnings of a drinking problem. Hardly father material. Not to mention his own father wasn't exactly the shining example of a family man. Maybe you should ask Rafi about that scar above his left hip. Someone who's been through what he has…" she shrugged her shoulders, "who knows what he'd do in a stressful situation."

Olivia's eyes flashed. "How dare you!" She clenched her hands into fists at her sides. Rafael had confided in her about the physical abuse he had suffered at the hands of his father, how he was worried he wouldn't be a good with Noah because of his experience. She had spent hours reassuring him that he was already great with Noah and that she had faith in him. For Yelina to hone in on Rafael's insecurities enraged her.

"Tell me, Lieutenant, does he still wake up screaming from the nightmares?"

"Get out!" Olivia spat, her teeth gritted.

"Gladly," Yelina smirked, securing her purse on her shoulder before she strode from Olivia's office.

* * *

"Everything okay?" Fin enquired when Olivia emerged from her office, a couple of minutes after Yelina had stalked out.

She pursed her lips. "Mrs Muñoz was just imparting her advice on my personal relationships."

Fin raised an eyebrow; surprised at Olivia's honesty. It was clear to anyone with eyes and half a brain that there was something between Olivia and Barba. It had been brewing for a while now. But neither of them addressed it directly with any of the squad.

Feeling confident, Fin pushed a little further. "You gonna listen to her?"

"I doubt it," Liv replied before a familiar giggle from across the office drew her attention. Lucy had arrived with Noah and it seemed they'd met Rafael on their way up. From the carefree look on his face, she would guess he had managed to unknowingly avoid Yelina as she left. She smiled as Rafael lifted Noah onto his hip with practised ease – a far cry from the first time he'd held him – and tickled his tummy.

Rafael motioned to the break room and Olivia nodded. She would join them shortly. Preferably before Noah managed to convince Rafael that chocolate before dinner was a good idea.

Turning back to Fin, she lay a hand on his shoulder. "The Rafael Barba I know," she continued, "is not the same man she knew."

As she made her way to the break room, Fin's voice reached her ears once more. "Liv!" She turned back to face him. "I know you've not asked for my opinion and you probably don't give a damn what I think, but…" he nodded in the direction of the break room. "…it's a good fit."

She glanced at her son, who was pointing at several items in the vending machine. and Rafael who was no doubt trying to convince him that all the sugar he was suggesting wasn't very healthy. She beamed at the sight. "You're right, it is."


End file.
